


Let Me Stand Next To Your Fire (Just Play With Me And You Won't Get Burned)

by hishn_greywalker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-21
Updated: 2007-10-21
Packaged: 2018-10-20 19:36:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10669392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hishn_greywalker/pseuds/hishn_greywalker
Summary: Hermione meets a pair of demon hunters in a bar, plays some pool, then takes them home for sex.





	Let Me Stand Next To Your Fire (Just Play With Me And You Won't Get Burned)

**Author's Note:**

> started to write one thing, which had a plot, then switched and wrote a 2,000 word pwp because the porn called to me. Thanks for the support and beta from the lovely [](http://waterofthemoon.livejournal.com/profile)[waterofthemoon](http://waterofthemoon.livejournal.com/). Title from Hendrix's "Fire". Original request at the bottom. This was written for [](http://mediasavant.livejournal.com/profile)[mediasavant](http://mediasavant.livejournal.com/) back in MARCH for the [](http://crossover-hp.livejournal.com/profile)[crossover_hp](http://crossover-hp.livejournal.com/) challenge. Um, wow, I suck at reposting. :P

She was sitting at the back of the bar, at her normal table, when they came into the bar. They were roughed up some, and the shorter one had a streak of dirt across his cheek, but the other one brushed it away with a casual gesture that told of long periods of time in the same company and nowhere to run if it went bad. She could relate to it somewhat—could remember her roommates from school, the frankness that was forced into the picture when you spent so much time in the presence of the same people for so many years.

With these two, though, it was something more. The way that they moved together but apart, two halves of a whole, told of years and years depending on one another. It was the unconscious way that they responded to the other's movements, and the way that just a glance could be a whole conversation.

She felt a pang, watching them. She could see her best friends in them, if only slightly. Something about their friendship, the easy way they moved and the way they seemed so unconscious of how much attention they attracted made her smile wistfully.

They shared another glance before they split up, the shorter one's hand resting in the center of the taller one's back for a brief second before the taller one headed to the bar. The shorter one made his way back towards the pool tables, all lazy grace and unbridled sexuality. He had a swagger to his walk that drew attention and a smile on that made everyone want to be right there with him.

The taller one came towards him, two beers in hand, an eyebrow raised. The shorter one nodded, picked up and examined one cue before setting it aside and finding a second. The swapped, one beer for one cue and then they were playing.

The game was obviously for fun. Neither boy was trying hard, both of them were talking to each other in low voices, and both of them were making unbelievable shots. With these two, it was obviously a game of talent and skill, not luck. Their skills seemed to have been honed for years, and she wondered, vaguely, how long they had been playing.

When she finished her beer and the boys wound their game down towards an end, she rose and wandered over. The locals turned to watch, and she knew that the boys noticed and were assessing her as she came towards them. "Fancy a game, boys? Maybe I can play the winner."

The two exchanged a glance, the shorter one shrugging and the taller one tilting his head to the side. It was obvious they were holding some sort of conversation, but what they were saying was anyone's guess. After a long few seconds, the taller one shook his head. "Nah, you and Dean can play. I'll sit this one out."

One had turned to two which had turned to three, and pretty soon the number of beers the taller one—Sam—had brought over for them was greater than the number of balls on the table. She wasn't a lightweight, but there'd been a few shots thrown in for fun—her treat, since the boys had covered the beer.

When the bartender that night came over and told her he was closing up, she' felt a flash of disappointment. Something about these boys and their ability to be completely unphased when she sprouted off random facts made her somewhat nostalgic. It was almost always countered immediately by Sam pulling something even more random out and by Dean showing knew more myth and lore than any person she'd ever met—and as a hero of the last war that wizarding England had been in, she'd met quite a few people.

When the three of them left the bar, all of them at least somewhat buzzed, Sam turned to Dean and bitched about the fact that they didn't have a room, since Dean had figured it'd be an early night. Dean bitched back about something Sam had done earlier that day, calling him Sammy as he did so, which only seemed to work his brother up more.

She just laughed, thought for maybe half a second, then offered for them to crash at her place, which was walking distance from the bar.

Dean eyed her then, looking far more sober than she thought he should. Sam had glanced back and forth between her and his brother, and she wondered what the two of them were thinking. After a long few seconds, Dean glanced at Sam, and Sam nodded, slowly but clearly.

After eyeing his brother for just a little longer, Dean turned back to her. "Yeah, sure, that'd work."

She realized, halfway home, exactly what their looks had been about and where this night was going. She hadn't meant to offer up her bed when she'd first made the offer, but now that the thought was rolling through her mind, she couldn't get it out.

Once the door was locked behind them, Dean pushed her gently against the entryway wall, his lips finding her collarbone as his hands traced up her sides to her breasts. She moaned, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. She let it go on for a few long moments before pushing him away.

"No," she told him, her voice breathy. "I want to see you with him."

Dean raised an eyebrow. Behind him, Sam smirked. She smiled back at Sam, who moved forward, his hands sliding under Dean's coat and his body moving until it was flush up against Dean's back. "What do you want to see?" he asked, his hands pushing Dean's t-shirt up as they trailed across his stomach. Dean leaned his head back against Sam's shoulder, his eyes closed.

Under normal circumstances, she'd have never said it, but under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have invited them back, and she wouldn't be in her front hallway with two gorgeous boys, both of who were willing to fuck her and, it seemed, each other.

"Let him—" she licked her lips, pausing a moment, "Let him ride you. Once he comes, you can fuck me."

Sam's grin was wicked now, full of promise and lust. He leaned his head down so his mouth was next to his brother's ear, so close that Dean had to feel his lips move as he spoke. "Do you like that idea, Dean? Do you wanna ride me until you come, then watch me fuck her until she screams?"

Dean moaned low in his throat, turning his head until he could kiss Sam. Sam's hands had left his t-shirt and were instead undoing Dean's belt. In a short amount of time, Dean was kicking off his shoes and pants, his jacket shed somewhere along the way and his t-shirt following. She led them back towards the bedroom, watching as Dean started to strip Sam, seeing their familiarity with each other.

Sam lay back in the middle of her bed, pulling Dean down onto him. He leaned up and captured his brother's mouth in another scalding kiss, their tongues battling for dominance. From one pocket or another, one of the brothers had produced a sachet of lube, and she almost slid down the wall she was leaning against when Sam began to prep Dean.

Dean was riding Sam's fingers, moaning in the back of his throat, and she almost wished she could have Sam make Dean come just like that. She paused, then, a smile creeping onto her face, and she moved towards the bed. "You know what would be really hot, Sam?" she asked, leaning down so that she could nip at Sam's jaw. "If you made Dean come just like that, then had him ride you until he came again. You think you can do that?" she asked him, her grin challenging him.

Sam groaned, but grinned back. "Don't doubt it for a minute."

Dean opened his eyes, glancing down at them, his mouth parted. He was breathing heavy, rising up and settling back down on Sam's fingers, his eyes glassy with lust and need. "Sam," he moaned, "please, please. Touch me."

Sam moved to do so, but she slapped his hand away. "No. I don't want you to touch him. Make him come like this. Let him beg, but make him come like a slut, just from you fucking him like that."

Dean whimpered at her words, throwing back his head and arching his back as Sam twisted his fingers inside him. "Oh god, Sam, please," he pleaded, though he didn't touch himself. His hands stayed planted on Sam's shoulders, using them as leverage.

Sam glanced over at her before staring up at his brother. "That's it Dean, come for me," he said, his voice low and soft.

The tone obviously meant something to the two of them because Dean let out a loud cry, his entire body seizing up as he came hard across Sam's stomach and chest. Sam kept going, his fingers still moving in and out of his brother.

With his other hand, Sam fumbled for the lube with his other hand, but he couldn't find it. Before she could grab it and give it to him, Sam had run his fingers through Dean's come, using it along with the lube still coating his other hand to slick up his cock.

Dean was still coming down from his last orgasm as Sam shifted him down and jerked his hips up, pushing into his brother. Dean let out a cry, arching his back, and Sam moaned low. "God, Dean," Sam murmured, pulling Dean's head down so that he could kiss him.

She didn't think she'd ever seen anything quite as hot as this, the way that Sam's hands had settled on Dean's hips, helping his fucked out brother ride him. Their kiss was more than just a kiss, just like their glances had been more than just glances.

It didn't take long before Dean's cock was hard again and he was riding Sam hard and fast, their kiss shifting and becoming sloppy bites and teasing licks. Sam shifted his grip on Dean's hips and jerked up once more, then Dean was spilling onto him a second time. Sam helped him ride out the orgasm, running a hand up to his face and cupping it to pull him for a gentle kiss. "God, Dean," Sam panted as he slid his brother off his still hard cock. "Wanted to come in you so bad."

Dean moaned, shifting so that he was lying on his side, one arm across Sam. "Sammy…"

Sam glanced at her before turning back to his brother, kissing him on the forehead. "Gotta keep my word, Dean. Gonna fuck her until she screams, then later, I'm gonna take you to a motel and fuck you again. Hard and deep and fast, and then I'm gonna come in you, promise," he told him, kissing him once more before pulling away.

Dean moaned and scooted back so that there was more room for her. She crawled up onto the bed and was about to straddle Sam when he grabbed her and rolled her down onto the bed. She didn't know where he got the condom from or how he managed to get it on so fast, but the next thing she knew, he was fucking her hard and fast, her legs wrapped around him and her fingers digging into his shoulder.

"Oh, god," she moaned. Sam sped his thrusts up, then bit down on her neck, hard enough to leave a mark, and she nearly screamed. He did it again and again, biting then licking at the mark, then biting again, until she was nearly crying as she came, her voice hoarse from saying his name over and over again.

When she could focus again, Sam was crouched down by the side of the bed, running a hand through her hair. It dawned on her then that neither of the boys had been nearly as intoxicated as she was, and that either of them could have probably driven the sweet looking car they had to the nearest motel.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" she asked, turning her face into his touch.

Sam smiled at her. "Yeah. Awkward mornings aren't really our thing."

"Hmmm," she murmured, sighing as he ran his fingers down her face to her neck, brushing over the bite marks he had left.

"You got a name, sweetheart?" Dean asked from where he leaned in the doorway. She could tell even in her state he nearly needed the door jam to keep him upright. "It'd be nice to have one to go with such a pretty face."

She grinned sleepily. "Hermione Granger."

Sam smiled down at her. "Well, then. Pleasure meeting you, Hermione."

As the boys walked away, Sam's arm wrapped around Dean, supporting him, she murmured, "No, pleasure's all mine."


End file.
